


Your Song (Will Lead Me On)

by NameForsaken



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: AU, Gen, Modern AU, Music AU, original lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:40:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23351824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NameForsaken/pseuds/NameForsaken
Summary: Edelgard has finally perfected her song... but she still needs someone to sing it. Modern Music AU. One-shot.
Kudos: 6





	Your Song (Will Lead Me On)

_“In the garden where the leaves so green_

_Flutter softly in the midsummer breeze,_

_There’s a lovely girl with the voice of a dove_

_Singing freely to the orchids and trees.”_

Dorothea’s gentle voice carried out across the courtyard, the familiar words of an old Fódlan folk song bringing a smile to Edelgard’s lips. As she had suspected, Dorothea had been tending to a small group of stray cats that sometimes poked around the academy’s exterior at night. Though the sun hadn’t quite fully set that evening, the small animals had already come out of hiding, as they often did whenever Dorothea snuck food out of the dining hall just for them. 

“I thought I’d find you here,” Edelgard spoke once Dorothea’s tune had come to an end. She took a few measured steps toward her classmate, careful not to scare away her furry audience. 

“Oh, Edie,” Dorothea mused, glancing up at her with an easy smile. She stood up from the makeshift stool she’d crafted out of her textbooks, sweeping the dust off her skirt. “What brings you out here? Aren’t you usually composing with Hubie at this hour?”

Edelgard swallowed, hoping the singer couldn’t see her nerves as she offered her a short nod. “Right, well, Hubert had other matters to tend to tonight.” 

Dorothea tilted her head just slightly, her green eyes narrowed in curiosity as she waited for Edelgard to continue. 

She found herself locked onto Dorothea’s gaze, searching for any sign of potential caution as she started to reach into the back pocket of her jeans. However, as usual, she found nothing but unwavering patience. She withdrew a folded up piece of paper, lifting it protectively to her chest. “I… actually… wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Well, then,” Dorothea’s smile widened. “It must be important, coming from you.”

Edelgard sighed, sensing the teasing tone in Dorothea’s voice. She glanced down at the piece of paper, tapping her fingers against the neatly folded edges. “I did write a new song, but without the assistance of Hubert… In fact, you’re the first person I’m showing it to.”

Dorothea’s entire face lit up, her eyes shining impossibly bright. “Oh, Edie, you shouldn’t have!” she exclaimed with an almost exaggerated amount of enthusiasm. “Did you write a song for _me_?”

On most days, her silly antics would bring Edelgard ease, even delight, but now, when she needed Dorothea more than ever to take this seriously, her teasing only seemed to cause Edelgard’s anxiety to spike exponentially. She lifted her free hand to her face, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Dorothea, please.”

“Sorry, sorry…” She straightened her back, locking her fingers together in front of her skirt. “It’s not like you to act so stressed over your music… Are you not confident in it?”

“Of course I am,” Edelgard answered sharply, her grip tightening over the paper in her hand. She closed her eyes, wondering for a fleeting moment if she had made a mistake. But just as quickly as the thought appeared, she blinked it away, returning her gaze to Dorothea. “As you know, I’m not much of a lyricist, nor a singer. But these words… they just came to me, and I had to write them down.”

Dorothea shifted her attention to the piece of paper. “May I?”

With one final nod, Edelgard handed it over. She watched Dorothea carefully, noting every change in her expression as she read. Truthfully, the words were not random, nor were they anything new. Edelgard had been tossing them around for quite some time, perhaps even before she’d enrolled at Garreg Mach. She’d spent night after sleepless night jotting down notes and phrases in a journal she kept wedged underneath her mattress, sometimes scribbling until her fingers went numb. However, no matter how many extra lessons she took with Professor Manuela, she just couldn’t make her voice sound out her song. 

“Edie…”

When Dorothea lowered the paper, there was a solemn glint in her eyes that told Edelgard everything she’d needed to know. Miraculously, the words had reached her. 

“It’s beautiful…” She handed it back, her fingers lingering over Edelgard’s in a comforting touch. “Are these… are these lyrics about you?”

Edelgard glanced down at their fingers, heat rising to her cheeks as she tenderly removed her hand from Dorothea’s. “I… I wouldn’t say they’re _about_ me, rather I wrote them for someone close to me.”

“Your family?”

She nodded, images of her brothers and sisters immediately dancing through her mind. It had taken all Edelgard had in her to leave her family back home when she was accepted into Garreg Mach. Her father, and many of her siblings, were becoming more ill with each passing day, and thoughts of their suffering kept Edelgard up almost every night. But it was also because of her siblings that she was able to keep making music, to raise the money the government denied them in order to fund their medical needs. 

“ _‘And though I’m not at your side, know you’re always with me,’_ ” Dorothea recited with a somber smile. “ _‘In time the pain will fade away, in time we’ll all be free.”_ ”

“I… I know they could use some work. But that's why I'm hoping you'll help me."

Dorothea furrowed her eyebrows. “What do you mean? I think it’s already perfect.”

“Not quite.” Edelgard stuffed the lyrics back into her pocket. “No song is complete without someone to sing it.”

Her classmate frowned. “Edie, I couldn’t…”

Edelgard’s shoulders tensed, but she didn’t let them fall. She knew it was a risk asking Dorothea to perform something so personal, but Edelgard had never been prepared to give up on something she felt so strongly about. If her family could keep fighting for their lives day after day, then Edelgard would fight, too, for any glimmer of hope that they’d pull through. 

“Dorothea, if I didn’t think you could do it, I wouldn’t have asked. But I believe in you, and I believe in this song.”

The singer let out a quiet hum. She turned her gaze back to the cats, who were just about finished with their evening snack. One of them, seeming to sense her hesitance, circled at her feet, rubbing its head affectionately against her leg. She crouched down to pat it, her expression softening. 

"I appreciate that, Edie, really." She glanced back up with a cryptic smile. "But I just don't think I can do such a piece the justice it deserves."

Edelgard clenched her fists, her brow wrinkling. She wasn't sure why Dorothea's words upset her, but just as she did whenever she received rejection, she took it as a sign to try harder. "Would you at least allow me to play it for you?"

Dorothea scooped the cat into her arms, lifting it with her as she stood up. "Alright, I guess I can't say no to that."

She loosened her fists, relief washing over her. A small, hopeful smile found her lips. "Very well. Meet me in the studio in fifteen minutes, then."

"It's a date," Dorothea responded with a coy smirk. 

Edelgard's face flushed, but she didn't bother to correct her. She cleared her throat. "I'll see you."

She stepped back from Dorothea, giving the cat a swift pat before taking her leave. Any other evening, she would have spent a little longer with their feline friends, but tonight she had an objective, one she was not willing to postpone. 

A few minutes later, Edelgard entered the academy's studio, home of the famous Garreg Mach Records. She was greeted at the front desk by Flayn, who informed her that recording hours were over for the evening. 

"I don't plan on recording, I just need a quiet space to play," Edelgard told her. 

“I’m sorry, I cannot bend the rules,” Flayn responded briskly, her bright green twintails bouncing as her head shook. “You know how Seteth is, I would never hear the end of it if I made an exception for just one student.”

Edelgard frowned. “I understand.” She started to turn, but her frustration ignited a new determination in her, one that absolutely would not allow her to back down. She snapped her head up, her expression serious as she faced Flayn once more. “You know, I expected more from you, Flayn. I see the way you always argue with Seteth, and I don’t think you particularly agree with his strict curfews. And I don’t find it fair that just because you also work for Lady Rhea, you don’t have to follow all of those rules.”

“That’s quite enough, Miss Hresvelg.”

The low, authoritative voice behind her caused Edelgard to tense, her train of thought coming to a sudden halt as she turned to her new arrival. Lady Rhea stood tall as ever, her own mint-green locks, only a shade or two more vibrant than Flayn’s, tied up in a tight, braided bun and held in place with the sunglasses that always perched atop her head. Her lips were upturned in an easy smile, but her eyes remained stoic, almost cautious. She took a step toward Edelgard, her heels clicking underneath her like a loud slap. 

“Is there a reason you need to get into the studio right this very minute?”

Edelgard drew in a deep breath, steeling herself as she met the headmistress’s intimidating gaze. There was only one person in all of Fódlan who could make Edelgard feel so out of place, and that woman was Lady Rhea. Though many students admired her impeccable ear for just about any genre of music, Edelgard couldn’t help but feel like Lady Rhea sometimes held herself above most people, as though she herself was to be given the credit for all of the hard work each of Garreg Mach’s artists put into honing their talents. But if it weren’t for Lady Rhea, Edelgard would not even have a place at Garreg Mach, would not be able to provide for her family and support their needs. 

“I promised Dorothea I would play a song for her,” Edelgard answered truthfully, if not begrudgingly. 

Rhea raised an eyebrow. “Is that not something you can do back in your dormitory?”

She opened her mouth to refute, but quickly realized the older woman had a point. Still, she was not willing to let Lady Rhea take her off her guard. “The studio has better acoustics.”

Much to Edelgard’s surprise, Rhea gave her a short nod. “Hmm. I can’t argue with that.” She leaned in closer to Edelgard, her brows knitting together in curiosity. “Very well, you may use the studio. However, if I find out you and Miss Arnault were doing more than… _playing_ , I will not hesitate to remove the Black Eagles from this year’s Battle of the Houses.”

Edelgard blinked, her face immediately reddening at Rhea’s implications. “O-of course!”

Rhea smirked. “I have faith in your compositions, Edelgard. I look forward to hearing this song as soon as it’s finished.”

She offered Lady Rhea the tiniest hint of a smile, trying her best to contain her gratitude. If word got out that Edelgard actually appreciated the headmistress, she would quickly lose her status as the Badass of Garreg Mach… not that she cared about such silly titles.

"Flayn, please ring Byleth in precisely an hour to see Miss Hresvelg and Miss Arnault back to their dormitories," Rhea instructed her receptionist. 

"Will do," Flayn complied with an obedient nod. She waited until Rhea disappeared down the corridor before directing her attention back to Edelgard. "As for you—"

"I'm sorry," Edelgard cut her off, hoping her tone conveyed the sincerity behind her words. "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that."

Flayn pursed her lips, turning her gaze toward her computer. She began to type something, but Edelgard couldn't see past the screen. "You're fortunate I don't take such comments to heart. However, please understand that my privileges are not because of my relationship to Lady Rhea, but because I have been in this music business probably longer than you've been alive."

Edelgard narrowed her eyes. "That can't be true. Most students here aren't over the age of twenty."

"I’m nineteen," Flayn stated nonchalantly, a knowing grin crossing her face. "I was born on my parents' tour bus and I've been on the road for the majority of my life. I know more about this studio's equipment than most of Lady Rhea's part-time staff, and that is why when I'm not in class, I'm working here."

"I… had no idea." Edelgard bowed her head. "Forgive my earlier assumption."

Flayn clicked her tongue. "There's no need for that. As I said, it's not a problem." She finished typing, and handed Edelgard a small key card. "However, if you still want to use the studio, I suggest you get a move on. This key will unlock Studio B. I set the doors to automatically lock in exactly an hour, though, and this card only works one way. Better keep an eye on the clock."

Edelgard took the card, pocketing it with her folded up lyrics. "Thank you." She stepped past the front desk and toward the recording hall, stopping in front of Studio B. She lifted the key to the card reader just outside the door, but pulled back at the last second, recalling Flayn’s warning. If she used it now before Dorothea arrived, then her bandmate would be locked out. 

Sighing, Edelgard moved over to a nearby bench, gaze wandering around the hall as she waited for Dorothea to show. The walls were lined with framed album covers, music awards, and photo after photo of Lady Rhea herself. Rumor had it that Rhea had been a model long before she founded Garreg Mach Records, and rarely anyone ever questioned whether or not it was the truth. Even Edelgard had to admit that Lady Rhea was rather stunning, even in her older age. Her beauty was almost ethereal in a way, her bone structure and facial features often likened to that of a goddess. Maybe that was why Edelgard found the woman’s presence so absolutely intimidating. 

She didn’t have to wait long for Dorothea. Her classmate sauntered over to her from the front of the hall, an easy smile playing on her lips. “I passed Lady Rhea on the way over here,” she told Edelgard as soon as she was in earshot. “She said no ‘funny business.’ I don’t know why she always assumes I’m going to get into trouble.”

Edelgard stood from the bench, feigning ignorance. “Oh, I’m sure she meant nothing by it.” She lifted the key to the card reader, waiting for it to click before she pushed the door open and entered the large recording space.

The studio was separated into two rooms by a soundproof wall and a thick glass window. The first was lined with expensive recording equipment and computer software where the students’ producer, Byleth Eisner, would usually mix and direct the students through their sessions. The second was filled on all sides with various instruments, music stands, and other necessities where the students would write and record their albums. Edelgard held the door to the second room open as Dorothea passed, plopping down on a bean bag chair in the corner. 

“It’s very rare I ever get to just relax and listen when we’re in here,” Dorothea commented as she reclined back, turning her gaze to the ceiling. “Usually, I’m singing my lungs out from start to finish.”

“Well, I imagine it’s quite busy here during studio hours,” Edelgard responded. She walked over to the rack of guitars in the back of the room, reaching for an acoustic bass. Her eyes lingered on the smooth surface of the body, the anxiety beginning to kick in again as she thought about the song in her back pocket. Her words had already reached Dorothea, but would the chords correspond the way she hoped? 

She drew in a deep breath, steeling her nerves, and she turned to face Dorothea. She walked toward her, pulling up a stool just a few feet away. Before sitting down, she withdrew the lyrics, and handed them back to her bandmate. Dorothea watched her quietly, her expression softening as Edelgard hefted the guitar onto her lap. She gripped the neck, closing her eyes as she released one last sigh. 

“Ready?”

Dorothea nodded. “Whenever you are.”

Edelgard opened her eyes, meeting Dorothea’s patient smile. Now fully calm, she adjusted her hands, forming the first chord with her left, and plucking gently with her right. A soft, sorrowful note emitted from the bass, and then another, and another, building a slow, bittersweet melody. She repeated the first few chords twice before she let out the quietest of hums, nodding at Dorothea to signal the beginning of the first verse. 

_Another night, another dream of distant faces,_ words began to dance around her head. She knew the lyrics by heart, had sung them silently to herself probably about a dozen times, but here, in front of Dorothea, they felt different, more daunting, more vulnerable. She couldn’t bring herself to sing, not just because she didn’t have the voice, but because she knew if she sang them out loud, she would never get them back. It didn’t matter that Dorothea had already read them; they were just words on a folded piece of paper up until that point. Now, they were lyrics, a song… a _secret_ , one that Edelgard was finally letting go. 

_I reach out, but no one reaches back._

So many nights she’d tossed and turned, the painful screams of her brothers and sisters haunting her mind. Pale, tear-streaked faces, frail and broken bodies, a rare disease that had afflicted so many of her siblings from birth. Why had Edelgard been the only one spared from the curse of her family’s blood? Why, no matter how many tests and experiments the doctors had performed on her, were they still unable to find a cure?

_Sometimes I fear your eyes will fade away, my whole world slipping through the cracks._

As she hummed along, her breath began to hitch, but still, she played. Her fingers slid along the frets, strings bouncing off the glossy wooden base. 

_But I wake up, and I see that everything around me is as it should be. As long as you’re still here, I know I can keep going on._

She picked up her rhythm as she transitioned into the chorus, the gloomy melody finding just a hint of hope. Even in the times she felt alone, like no one else could possibly understand, she knew she could always count on memories of her family to brighten her day. Warm, sunny days chasing her brothers through the grass; cool, rainy nights huddling with her sisters under a fort of blankets, a soothing lullaby playing from their father’s bass. He had been her inspiration, her mentor, the one who had taught Edelgard to play. 

_Even if it starts to rain, I know the sun will come one day. Until then, your song will lead me on. Even in the darkest night, the moon will always shine its light. Your song will always lead me on._

Dorothea was so uncharacteristically quiet. Her eyes moved between the paper and the player, wide in awe as she took it all in. At some point during the second verse, her head began to sway, her lips moving as she mouthed the same words that echoed through Edelgard’s mind. When Edelgard noticed, she couldn’t help but smile. She knew, right then, that her song would not go unheard; that Dorothea would make sure it touched many more hearts the way it appeared to have touched hers. 

By the time she plucked the final chord, the note lingering in the air, Edelgard couldn’t stop the tears. She hugged the bass close to her chest, her head bowed in absolute content. If she could reach Dorothea, then she could reach her family, too. All she wanted, all she’d ever wanted, was for her siblings to hear her song. At long last, she knew, all those sleepless nights, all the feelings of loneliness, the calluses on her fingers that made it difficult to write, had paid off. 

“Edie?”

She glanced up at Dorothea, who had stood from the bean bag, her expression concerned for her bandmate. Edelgard wiped her eyes, a slight blush rising to her cheeks. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d allowed herself to cry in front of someone. “Please tell me you’ll do it.”

Dorothea blinked, her concern melting into relief. She smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling with affirmation. “I would love nothing more.”


End file.
